


Happier Endings

by teprometo



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Erotic Massage, First Time, M/M, Massage, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teprometo/pseuds/teprometo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin stops in at the massage parlour down the road for a little relaxation after a hard day at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happier Endings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rane_ab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rane_ab/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Больше, чем счастливый конец](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619722) by [bitter_zephyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitter_zephyr/pseuds/bitter_zephyr)



> This was written for [merlin_sexstars](http://merlin-sexstars.livejournal.com) based on rane_ab's [prompt #20](http://merlin-sexstars.livejournal.com/2495.html). Thanks to [anna_unfolding](http://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_unfolding) for the beta! This may be the fluffiest thing I've ever written. O.o

Merlin’s coworkers had been telling him to go to Morgana’s Parlour for ages, swearing that the masseuses there gave the most relaxing massages in London. His coffee mate, Gwaine, was the most vocal proponent, squeezing Merlin’s shoulders and saying, “You’re too tense, friend. You really need to go see Morgana.” It was just down the street, a gaudy shopfront with heavy purple and gold curtains in the window, the parlour’s name hand-painted on the door, and Merlin finally broke down and visited one day after he’d spent four hours on the phone with the most infuriating client ever.

The door chimed brightly as he entered, the sound discordant with the dimness inside. A host of fluffy fibre optic lamps and fairy lights zigzagging across the walls were the only sources of light in the room, the floor lined with beanbag chairs for seating. Merlin had the distinctly uncomfortable feeling of being in a teenage girl’s bedroom in the early 2000s (he hadn’t known what to do then, either), and he was on the verge of turning to leave when a beautiful woman who looked to be in her early thirties swept into the room.

She was obviously the face of the parlour, probably on all the advertisements, because Merlin didn’t think anyone would baulk at her giving them a massage. Merlin was also reasonably certain that she had never given a massage in her life. She didn’t have the bearing of someone who worked with her hands.

“Welcome,” she said, her voice like warm honey, the lilt in it a bright hint of lemon. “Please, have a seat.”

Merlin smiled but felt ridiculous crouching down to sit in one of the beanbag chairs, his legs over-long, knees sticking up awkwardly. The chair crinkled every time he shifted, and though the lovely woman furiously texting at the counter didn’t appear fazed by the constant noise, Merlin tried to stay perfectly still, causing a twinge in his neck.

The woman set her phone down on the counter with a loud clack and crossed the room to sit in the beanbag nearest Merlin, making almost no noise as she did so. She pulled her long black hair into a low ponytail, revealing ornate amethyst earrings that looked to weigh about a stone apiece.

“Pardon my texting,” she said warmly. “One of my providers is late, and I was checking in to see if he’d still make it.”

“Oh, no problem,” Merlin said, nodding, then grimacing at the sound of styrofoam balls shifting in his chair.

“I’m Morgana,” she said, holding out her hand. Merlin shook it.

“Merlin,” he said. “I’ve never been in here before. It’s … not quite what I was expecting.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, Merlin,” she said in that way excellent businesspeople have of making you feel important even if they’re planning on forgetting you in the next moment. “The decor was free. Explains a lot, doesn’t it?” Merlin laughed, then wondered if Morgana made a point of working this interaction in with all of her clients. “Do you have a preference of gender for your provider?”

“Male,” Merlin said after a moment’s hesitation. “Stronger hands.”

“Of course,” Morgana said, sweeping her hands down her skirt. “It sounds like you'll be wanting the sixty-minute Swedish massage, and you’re in for a treat. I’m expecting Arthur any moment now. He’s terrific.”

“Great,” Merlin said, feeling awkward and drowning in her cheerfulness.

The door chimed, and a disgruntled-looking blond man trudged inside. “Can you invest in some proper lighting?” he said, and Merlin snorted.

“Arthur, we have a client,” Morgana said, a dangerous edge in her voice.

“Right,” the man, Arthur, said. “Have you explained to him that I don’t really do this?”

Morgana clucked her tongue, and when Merlin glanced at her, her eyes were narrowed in Arthur’s direction. Her features softened again when she turned to Merlin. “Arthur is doing me a huge favour today. One of my staff is held up in court, so he’s filling in for the evening. He’s a physio for the university and will do away with all your little aches and pains.”

Merlin just nodded, because he wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Morgana stood, again causing negligible chair crinkling, and straightened her skirt. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you set up in your room.” Merlin crinkled up a storm as he stood, and when he glanced over, Arthur was glaring disdainfully at the chair.

The massage room was dim and very warm, a humidifier running in the corner. Several bottles of oil rested on a sideboard, and an Arabic-sounding melody hummed from the CD player.

“Take everything off and lie face down on the table. You can put your clothes over here,” Morgana said, pointing at a low shelf by the door. “Arthur will be with you in a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” Merlin said, fiddling with his scarf as he waited for Morgana to leave the room. When the door clicked behind her, he practically leapt out of his clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the shelf before he jumped onto the table, pulling the sheet up to his neck. He did not savour the thought of Arthur walking in on him while he was balls-out with one leg swung up onto the table.

It was surprisingly comfortable, lying prone on the hard table. As he lay there, his spine seemed to lengthen a few centimetres, his hips inching down the surface and his belly stretching flat along the table. He was pleasantly dozing when a rush of cool air tickled his neck.

Merlin stared down at the floor through the little face cradle and listened to Arthur's footsteps, a bottle clinking, the wet sound of oil being warmed between two hands—that one was a sound Merlin knew well, remembered from earlier years, when he'd had the well-paired luxuries of free time and a boyfriend.

“How much pressure do you like?” Arthur said, voice surprisingly soft, and Merlin supposed Morgana had coached him in massage parlour etiquette.

“Quite a lot, please,” Merlin said, and that was that. Arthur didn’t bother him with yammering, which was a pleasant surprise, given the way his last massage had gone. It was years ago, and it had put Merlin off massages for ages, because the woman would not stop whinging—about her commute that day, the price of her lunch, that her phone battery had died. Merlin had walked out tenser than when he’d come in.

Arthur’s hands were deliciously strong, zeroing in on the tight knots in Merlin’s shoulders and working them out without struggle. He was meticulous, moving from shoulders to neck, shoulders to neck, then down Merlin’s back, hands hot over the soft sheet before he pulled it down and smoothed it over Merlin’s hips. He found each of Merlin’s achy spots, pressed until it hurt and then pressed a bit more, and it was heaven. Arthur lifted one of Merlin’s arms, bending it across his back and digging into the flesh under Merlin’s shoulder blade. It hurt. It hurt a lot, and Merlin held his breath.

“You want me to go lighter?” Arthur said, pausing, his thumb rubbing across the pulse point in Merlin’s wrist.

“No, it’s good,” Merlin grunted.

“All right, just keep breathing, then,” Arthur said, and he applied even more pressure, working out god knows what kind of demon spirits as Merlin’s ragged panting cut through the soothing music.

Arthur eased Merlin’s arm back onto the table, running a firm hand over his triceps before he moved to Merlin’s other side. “Second side hurts worse than the first,” he said as he plucked up Merlin’s left arm and bent it behind his back.

“I can take it,” Merlin said, and he smiled at Arthur’s surprised laugh.

It did hurt worse, but not a lot worse. Merlin reached some kind of zen state, both present and oddly removed, experiencing the pain as though he were a sympathetic witness. When Arthur was finished, he landed a light pat on Merlin’s arse, and Merlin’s entire front burned with the heat of unexpected desire. Of course, Arthur normally did this to athletes, and they were a group of sexually confused bum-slappers, the lot.

Merlin’s feet had always been horribly ticklish, so he was surprised when Arthur didn’t set off his tickle reflex even once. His hands were sure and firm, no sense of hesitation, as though he knew every muscle in the foot and how it grew tense over time.

“You have good ankles,” Arthur said as he ran his hands up one of Merlin’s calves, thumbs digging in smartly here and there.

“Erm, thanks?”

“Sorry, that’s a weird comment for a leisure massage,” Arthur said, and Merlin thought he caught an exasperated huff at the end. “Most people I see have really messed-up ankles, is all.”

Merlin just hummed in response, enjoying the slow movement of Arthur’s hands up one leg, then the next, strong fingers spreading over his muscles, easing him into even deeper relaxation. When Arthur got to his arse, Merlin had to hold his breath to keep from groaning. Arthur’s hands were magic, pressing hard near Merlin’s tailbone and then kneading at the flesh below.

Arthur seemed to pay special attention to Merlin’s bum, roving from hips to thighs and back again. His thumbs slid up between Merlin’s cheeks, oil slicking so close to his hole that Merlin ached with want, his breath suddenly too shallow. It was only when Arthur pulled the sheet back down over Merlin’s legs and signalled for him to roll over that Merlin realised how odd it was for Arthur to have done that portion of the massage skin to skin, without the safe, modest barrier of the sheet.

Once Merlin was settled on his back, Arthur plucked up one of his arms, smoothing over his biceps. It took several long moments in Merlin’s fogged-up brain for him to notice how painfully fucking aroused he was. He worked up the nerve to glance down at himself, hoping he was discreet, but there was no mistaking the giant, awkward erection tenting the sheet above him. His face went hot, but Arthur made no sign of noticing, so Merlin figured it probably happened all the time. He tried not to worry about it, instead losing himself in in the feel of Arthur massaging his forearm, then his hand, the pressure at each of his fingertips shooting a new throbbing jolt between his legs. He’d never realised how erogenous hands could be.

Slowly, Arthur worked down Merlin’s chest, zoning in on muscles Merlin didn’t even realise he had. While Arthur massaged around Merlin’s hips, pelvic muscles spasming under the delicate touch, Merlin thought he might go mad if Arthur didn’t touch his cock, but then Arthur stepped away, moved back down to Merlin’s feet, and Merlin had a moment to compose himself.

It didn’t last long. Arthur was massaging Merlin’s thighs within moments, hands wide, almost covetous as they pushed up and up, until his thumbs were pushing into the creases of Merlin’s hips, back and forth until Merlin thought he might cream himself like a teenager. And then one of Arthur’s hands wrapped firmly around Merlin’s cock and squeezed, a thumb sweeping up to play at Merlin’s foreskin. He let out a long moan before he fully realised where he was and jolted away from Arthur, sitting up abruptly, legs swung over the side of the table. “What are you doing?”

“Erm,” Arthur said, looking confused, his hand held out awkwardly in front of him. “The happy ending?”

“I didn’t sign up for a … happy ending,” Merlin said.

“You … what?” Arthur stared at Merlin’s cock, and Merlin pulled the sheet back over himself, embarrassed to note the giant wet patch he’d left on it. “I thought …. Oh, shit.” Arthur looked horrified.

“I don’t pay people for sex,” Merlin said.

Arthur looked like he wanted to hide under the table, his eyes wide and nervous, mouth tight. Merlin tracked the motion of Arthur’s cock-sticky hand down to his side, watched him wipe it against his jogging bottoms. That’s when he noticed Arthur was sporting an impressive tent of his own.

“I don’t pay people for sex,” Merlin repeated, and maybe it was because he was extra relaxed from the massage or because he’d been hard for the better part of an hour, but he went on to say, “But I’d gladly fuck you for free.”

Arthur wavered for a moment, staring at the door and then at Merlin, and Merlin just sat there with his legs dangling off the table, trying to look nonchalant even as his hands itched to slide down into Arthur’s pants—if he was even wearing any. Merlin was sceptical.

“Fuck it,” Arthur said, defiant, and he was between Merlin’s legs, lips pressed hard against Merlin’s.

Merlin moaned into it, and his legs tightened around Arthur’s hips. Arthur licked past his lips and reached down to peel away the sheet, shoving in closer against Merlin, the soft fabric of his joggers an unbearable tease. Merlin did away with them swiftly, thumbs dragging the elastic down until Arthur’s cock sprung out.

“Mm, you’re all slick,” Arthur said into his mouth as he fucked up into Merlin’s hips, the oil facilitating an easy slide as their cocks nestled in together between the heat of their bodies.

It felt amazing, but Merlin was primed from so much touch that he ached for more. “Do you have any—”

“No,” Arthur moaned, a miserable sound, rubbing over one of Merlin’s nipples with a thumb.

“Damn it.”

“Quickie now.” Arthur wrapped his slick hand around both their cocks. “Long fuck after.”

“Extreme quickie now,” Merlin said, bracing himself against the table as he fucked up into Arthur’s grip. “I’ve been hard since you started.”

Arthur grinned at him, a dopey, happy look like he was proud of himself. “I’ve never given an erotic massage before,” he said, smug, and Merlin was on the verge of coming.

“You can give me one—oh—any—fuck!” He came with a hard jerk that made him lose his balance, falling back against the table. He just lay there, letting his head dangle over the edge, his cock, fingers, toes, and temples throbbing like he had twice as much blood as usual. Arthur let go of his cock and took hold of one of Merlin’s legs, hooking his elbow under the knee and hoisting it up, fucking into the crease of Merlin’s hip.

“Top or bottom?” Merlin said, and it came out pinched and breathless across his overstretched vocal cords.

“I’m a top today,” Arthur said through gasps.

“Hmm?” Merlin hummed, confused and too relaxed to try to muse on it, but Arthur was slow in responding. His hand splayed out across Merlin’s chest and his hips stuttered, and Merlin picked up his head in time to see the last spurt of Arthur’s cock, leaving Merlin’s belly sticky.

Arthur took a moment to catch his breath, cock just resting there against Merlin’s, and Merlin noticed just how good they looked together, his narrow thighs pale and striking against the bronze of Arthur’s skin.

“I just spent a solid fifteen minutes playing with your arse,” Arthur said, his breathing mostly even now. He lowered Merlin’s leg. “Hence, today I’m a top.”

“Mm, good point.” Merlin nodded sagely and looked around for something to clean himself up with. Arthur beat him to it, snatching up the sheet from the floor and scrubbing it over Merlin’s front a bit too hard. “So do you need to stay and—”

“No,” Arthur said, shaking his head vigorously. “Morgana can get her own hands dirty if need be. I doubt I’ll have such good luck twice in a row.”

Arthur bent down and pulled his jogging bottoms back up, then fetched Merlin his clothes from the shelf by the door. Merlin slipped into his jeans, and as he was putting on his socks, he said, “So is this just a ... dirty parlour?”

“Yeah.” Arthur snorted. “Can’t believe you wandered in here not knowing that.”

“My coworkers recommended it!” Merlin said, flailing his arms a bit. He buttoned his shirt and had a rather alarming mental image of Gwaine lying on the massage table with his hands behind his head, a disembodied hand jerking him off. “Now I know they’re all raving perverts. Excellent.”

Arthur leaned in and kissed him, soft and chaste, and it was so surprisingly intimate that it set little flutters sparkling in Merlin’s chest. “Back to mine?” Arthur said, offering his arm, and Merlin grinned.

“As long as you feed me after,” he said, settling his fingers in the crook of Arthur’s elbow.

“Of course.” Arthur opened the door, cool air rushing past them. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

Morgana’s eyebrow when she spotted them was almost as comical as Arthur’s nonchalant, “He’s on me.”

“You know, as the provider, you’re not supposed to get off, too,” Morgana said as though Arthur were simply dense.

“Guess you didn’t train me well enough,” he said, and he kissed her cheek as they passed.

Morgana stepped behind her desk again and said, “Come back again another time, Merlin, and I’ll make sure you get a real professional.”

“He did a great job.” Merlin nodded with enthusiasm. “Really. No complaints.”

Arthur opened the door and led Merlin out into the balmy evening. “Brunch tomorrow?” he said to Morgana, propping the door open with his shoulder.

Morgana wiggled two rude fingers at Arthur and blew a kiss to Merlin. “Bring your new boy,” she said, and Arthur snorted. “He seems more interesting than you.”

“Exes?” Merlin asked after Arthur let the door fall shut.

“Worse, in fact,” Arthur said, kissing Merlin’s ear. “Siblings.”

Merlin’s guffaw was hardly dignified, but Arthur didn’t seem to mind.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] Happier Endings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2342906) by [anna_unfolding](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_unfolding/pseuds/anna_unfolding)




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